When Kyle Snaps
by certifiedcynic
Summary: Essentially some brutal Kyle X Cartman slash - with Kyle on top! Yippee!


Our trio stood stoic, sentinel at our long-term bus stop. Stan dutifully thumbed the keypad of his high-tech cell phone, no doubt getting an early start on the day's interaction with Wendy. Kenny was digging through the pockets of his blaze-orange anorak, examining the contents: crumpled sheet music, world-weary pornography, expired condoms. As for me, I humored my steadily growing introversion, retreating inward into the depths of my mind; the vapid, gaseous no-man's-land of my psyche . . . "Thinking deep thoughts," as I liked to say.

We were not popular. Although my fondness for solitude greatly exceeded that of Stan and Kenny, we were all relatively quiet, uninspired boys. The main purpose of high school is to categorize and define every student - unfortunately, we didn't fit in any of the established cliques. We hovered waifishly on the outskirts of the stoners; of the artsy rejects. But through it all, we had each other. We always had each other. I clung to my friends firmly, tighter than they realized. It was no surprise, then, that _he_ would try to take that away from me.

Ah, speak of the devil. Just as the demonic shriek of the bus's brakes grew tangible in the distance, the fourth member - the cement of our quartet - huffed and shuffled into position beside me. Cartman eventually caught his breath. "Fucking Jew," he muttered, before entering the bus.

First period passed, second, third . . . It was lunch - another opportunity for Cartman to torment me. We all sat at our isolated table with trays slopped in anonymous sludge. He dropped his food with a clatter and pressed his fingertips together, addressing us. "Oh my God you guys. Like seriously. I'm totally seriously, you guys."

"Mmpf?" asked Kenny.

"Yeah Cartman, what?" inquired Stan.

I remained silent, observing.

"You guys. I bet that Kyle watches gay porn."

Stan and Kenny exchanged a glance. "Aaand . . . ?"

Cartman leaned forward conspiratorially. "And likes it," he added in a stage whisper.

"What the fuck, Cartman? Is there something wrong with homosexuality?" I demanded.

"Duh, Kahl. It's totally gay."

I tried not to let him rile me. But the truth was, I did enjoy an occasional clip of homoeroticism. Nothing got me off quite like that rape scene in _Deliverance_. But Cartman couldn't possibly know that! . . . Could he? No, no; he just craved a reaction.

"Whatever, Cartman," I mumbled, already retreating back into the security of my thoughts.

He stood on the table (it managed not to buckle under his mass). "Hey everyone! Kahl watches gay porn! He's a gay Jew fag!"

I didn't intentionally react, but I could feel the flush creeping into my face.

"Dude, don't worry about it. No one even noticed." Stan touched my back reassuringly.

That was true; as a general rule, Cartman's various antics went ignored. But he still hit a nerve.

Kenny agreed. "Nuh miy mmm."

"Thanks, guys," I sighed.

_What is love? Love is the most important thing on Earth. When boys and girls feel love . . ._

_Boys and girls. Indeed. Could love exist between two males? How could I go about finding out? Stan had Wendy; Kenny rotated through his harem; if the stories of Cartman's conquests were to be believed, even he had access to pussy._

_What's wrong with me? Why does my hand drift farther back during my daily session of self-love? Why do I browse the internet for man-on-man action? Why can't I obsess over mammary glands and vaginas like everyone else?_

_There must be something wrong with me._

I trudged home from school, contemplating. My eyes narrowed as I heard his voice. Cartman shouted as he tried to catch up with me. ". . . Kahl! Kahl! Slow down!"

I ducked my head and redoubled my stride, desperately trying to avoid my tormentor.

"Kahl! Wait up!" He jogged into place beside me and wheezed after his exertion.

"What the fuck do you want, Cartman?" I asked, exasperated.

He chuckled maniacally and flips me off with both hands. "I want you inside me, gay Jew fag!"

Cartman continued shaking with mirth as he turned to enter his house. "Oh, by the way, Jew-boy . . . Can you help me with the calculus homework later?"

"Sure. Fine. Whatever, fatass." My tutoring was the only reason that bastard was still in school.

"Byeee!" he squealed in a highly stereotypical gay fashion.

_I must be a sadist for helping him._

I knocked on his door at 8:00 - after dinner, but before the daily rerun of _Terrance and Philip_. "Come on in, homo!"

I sighed and tossed my backpack to the floor. "Cartman . . ."

His eyes narrowed, and I knew he was going in for the kill. "My mom isn't home. I'm making you watch some gay porn, and if you get a boner, I'm telling everyone at school what a faggot you are."

I felt myself snap, like a rubber band stretched to its limit. "Really, Cartman? Well, guess what. There's something even gayer than watching gay porn."

He was intrigued, that pervert. "What?"

I leaned in towards him; batted my large green eyes seductively. "Getting fucked in the ass."

"You're such a fa-" I silenced him with a swift blow to the throat. He collapsed, gurgling wetly, a brilliant violet bruise ballooning over his trachea. While he was down I kicked him hard in the abdomen, then once again in his groin. He shuddered, a rope of scarlet-tinted saliva dangling from his mouth. I bent down towards his face and pressed my lips to his, tasting his essence, his ichor.

I looked around his foyer for something, anything I could use to restrain him. Nothing. Damn. I removed off my emerald-tinted ushanka, wadded it up, and stuffed it roughly in his mouth. Next, I pulled his red sweatshirt upwards, inside out over his face. Finally, I grabbed the waistband of his brown corduroys and yanked them down around his ankles.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll regret it," I assured him.

While not the connoisseur of homosexual pornography that Cartman made me out to be, I did watch enough to have an idea of what to do. I quickly unzipped my pants, spat in my hand, and smeared the saliva over my swiftly expanding member. Cartman made a noise resembling a cow being slaughtered, which intensified as I pressed the head of my penis against his sphincter.

I stayed there for a moment, enjoying the feel of his rapid heartbeat pulsating through his anus into my dick. His entire body quivered, perhaps in fear, perhaps in anticipation. I slowly leaned my weight into him, my member sliding gradually inside. His internal rhythm was even more obvious when it surrounded me, encasing my dick with its pleasant warmth.

I gently pulled myself almost completely out, then forcefully slammed my entire length back into him. He moaned and I felt his rectum clench around me, pulling me in even deeper. I obliged his subliminal request and pulled out halfway, then slid back in, repeating the pattern faster and faster. I rode him hard, gripping his pudgy hips tightly, relishing the faint prickle of our scrotums slapping together. I let go of one love handle to caress his organ, still red and swollen from my previous abuse.

This sex wasn't for his pleasure, though, so I returned to clenching his muffin top and started knifing him - fully removing my penis from his body between thrusts. By this point his anus gaped open, obscenely crimson, sticky and wet from my exploitation. I smashed into him a final time, releasing my load deep within his bowls with an animalistic grunt. I leisurely removed myself with a sloppy "pop!" noise and watched my seed drizzle out from his ass, down his inflamed scrotum, and pool on the hardwood floor where I raped him.

I had one thing to say before returning home to the most satisfying sleep I'd enjoyed in months. "Who's gay now, Cartman?"


End file.
